


999 Nights

by nakedhelot



Category: Vampire Knight (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Political Campaigns, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 01:00:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18325502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakedhelot/pseuds/nakedhelot
Summary: A fossil hunt, a multi-national corporation, a run-down hotel in a truck-stop town, a mysterious neighbour and an election. Kaname doesn't know what he's doing in North Huxley, but that doesn't matter. He just needs to end this fucking curse.





	999 Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this has some political themes which some might be sensitive to. For specific warnings, please skip to the end notes.

Yagari takes a seat in a cheap black office chair, swivelling to face Kaname. Behind him, a shallow rectangular shelf made up of cubes in four rows, ten columns. Written in faded Sharpie were room numbers. Whoever wrote them took their time in a way that was counter-intuitive. The digits looked both stiff and wobbly. There weren't any keys left hanging on the nail in the middle of each little box. The hotel at least had an entry card system.

“I’m aware that asking questions at this stage is pointless.” Yagari speaks in a low drawl, each word is pointy with intent. “Humor me.” He ashes his cigarette, smoked precisely to the filter and lights a new one. Kaname doesn't get a look at the lighter. It sounds like the most expensive thing in the room.

“What business does a multi-billion multinational got in buying a rundown shit hole like this place.”

“Kuran Corporation is thrilled to be making an investment in the beautiful area of North Huxley which is a promising new location of luxury leisure. We are also honored to be part of a community of skilled hospitality workers and we are looking forward to growing with you through North Huxley Hotel.”

“Location of luxury - yeah, right. Okay kid. I heard that spiel two years ago from your uncle and I was just as impressed as I am now.” He taps ashes into a bottle green glass ashtray.  “Aside from the name change and the fancy - frankly, out of place sign, you guys haven't actually done anything with this place.”

“Kuran Corporation believes that the local charm of North Huxley Hotel is its unique selling point. We are interested in maintaining the community spirit of this fine establishment.”

“We both read the press release.” Yagari grunts, speaking as his cigarette bobs up and down between his lips. “Fine, listen. What the fuck are you doing here.”

-

North Huxley is a dustbowl of a town between two huge metropolises with a population of 3000 people. What's surprising to Kaname, as he looks around what is accurately described by North Huxley native Yagari Touen - a shit hole, is that everyone here is strikingly good looking. The few military bodies milling about were the kind of lookers that Kaname would have cast in a TVC or print campaign to raise enlistment numbers had Kuran Co kept the military contract. Instead Kaname is sitting in his black Bentley, eternal polish buffed away by the unfamiliar sand-dirt atmosphere, in a sorry tarmac car park behind the hotel, white bay markings reduced to speckles in the wavy gray surface of solidified tar on a hot afternoon. There’s two non descript pick-ups, a huge truck with only 6 of its 12 wheels attached - purple flames skilfully painted on the door spelling LORNA, some shitty seventies era sedans in colorways that car manufacturers have long written off as money holes and a bright yellow hatchback of recent make, rear window lined with small soft toys hanging by strings on suction cups.

Kaname figures that half an hour is enough time to be “grabbing my luggage out of the car”, snatches his carry-all from the front passenger seat and heads back inside.

Yagari blinks at the bag, flicks a scratched up key card between his cigarette fingers.

“Penthouse suite for the man of the house.” the cigarette bobs up and down. “Enjoy.”

-

The penthouse suite is four flights of stairs up and clearly equipped for the year long stay Rido had designed for him rather than the month or so Kaname is willing to put up with this farce.

Although the furnishings are visibly old, the room is clean and the air fresh. Kaname brings it up at the accounts meeting in the dimmest corner of the hotel’s restaurant.

“Well, yeah.” Yagari taps the screen and a spreadsheet surprisingly deep into the green opens. “This might be a shit hole but it's profitable and frequently patronised. I don't know about that luxury location crap your copy team cooked up but we're five hours into a ten hour drive between two huge cities, less than an hour drive from a major military base and about an hour from a busy oil refinery plant. We get visitors.” Yagari taps again and the spreadsheets turn into graphs. “We’re 80% occupied 80% of the time.”

Kaname nods mindlessly, ready to swipe on before a small anomaly catches on the corner of his eye. Too much green in one place. He slides his finger back left.

“Room 402 has been listed as occupied every day for the last 728 days.”

“Yes.”

“That room is right next to mine and it is definitely empty.”

“The occupant comes and goes.”

“Kaien Cross booked room 402 for 999 nights?”

“999 nights and 1000 days.”

“I guess I'll be running into Mr. Cross often.”

“Nah. Cross lives back your way. Hasn't visited in years.”

-

Kuran Co’s acquisition of North Huxley Hotel was a tax evasion tactic. His mother rushed to get money out of the company and into offshore assets. The hotel wasn't losing money and proving ultimately cheaper to keep than to sell.  Who ever was doing the books was doing an incredible job at keeping them looking clean. Yagari didn't seem to care too much.

His uncle had sent him to look for fossils. No clarification on whether it was a metaphorical fossil or an actual fossil. The boardroom had patiently waited for Kaname to say no.  With the taste of bile secreting from the root of every tooth and every tendon in his body itching to throb it's way out of his skin and the joints of his jaw grinding against each other like the tectonic plates under the Pacific, Kaname said yes.

At breakfast the next morning, black coffee for Kaname, black coffee and cigarette for Yagari, Kaname asks.

“You're about 20 years too late for that, kid.” Yagari rinses his mug out and begins to brew a fresh pot for hotel visitors. The pot looks like it predates the internet.

“If you remember a news story about a T-rex fossil being auctioned off for ‘bout 8 million, that bad boy was dug out around 10 kays from here.”

“So there’s no more?”

“Museums, universities, scientists, private collectors, black market merchants all been through here with their respective fine tooth combs and churned this land up for years. Why would any of them have left if there was still anything to find.”

“Has anyone told you that you don't look as talkative as you are?  Was that a no?”

Yagari laughs.

“Well, no.”

“Right,”

“Tell you what. I've got a part timer coming in late noon. There's a some triceratops ribs poking out of ground not too far from here. I've been told they're worthless but some people coated them in resin wayback and they're still solid.”

-

The triceratops ribs were white bleached yellow sticking out of a cracked dry riverbed like an eagle’s claw. The dark rust silhouette of the oil refinery was shimmering away in the hot distance, tallest pipe spitting flames like Morse code. The air smelled of fuel. Yagari lights another cigarette.

“Smaller than you would think, right? “

“Talkative.” Kaname quips as he takes a photo and sends it to Rido with a very precise geotag and the message ‘heading back tomorrow’.

Yagari ducks back into the pick-up. North Huxley Hotel company car, the window on the drivers door completely gone.  “Sorry boss, gotta say something to distract me from the thoughts of how easy it would be to shoot you and leave you here for dead.”

Kaname slides into the passenger seat.

-

The tomorrow that Kaname referred to in his message to Rido two days ago has come and gone with no response. He busies himself in North Huxley corroborating Yagari’s version of the towns fossil history - no major deviations, and stitching together the scraps of information that Aidou could find about Yagari Touen and Kaien Cross.

“They’re, like. Normal.” Aidou finishes after delivering his full report.

Yagari Touen was born in a North Huxley clerical hospital that was demolished decades ago. He went to primary and high school in one of the two K-12 schools in the district. He worked a few hospitality jobs straight out of high school overseas, taking advantage of his dual citizenship which he then forfeited when he joined the army reserve while working in a big, fancy hotel in the big, fancy city west of North Huxley. Only a few years after that, he passes the age where he can be called to active service and is discharged from the reserve without being once deployed. He quits his job at the big hotel after a lengthy period where he slowly ramps up the length and frequency of the leaves he takes. He ends up in North Huxley Hotel. This is more than five years ago. Aside from that, Yagari Touen has no media presence social or otherwise . Aidou scours all of this information from public records, some ten-finger magic and LinkedIn, where Yagari’s profile is less than 20 words long and his photo is the default gray silhouette.

Kaien Cross has an immense, well edited social media presence. He’s a small but loud personality in political economics and has a Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, YouTube Channel, Podcast and two TED talks to his name. He even has a not-so-popular but impeccably produced Netflix special on political relations. His media subscribers average to approximately 70 000 unique followers.  He has consistent mentions in numerous, reputable international publications in the last 30 years.Kaien Cross was born in North Huxley and did his K-12 at the private school. He leaves for a renowned university a couple of years early and majors in international relations. He obtains apprenticeships with government offices, lawyers, analyst think tanks and policy makers through his tertiary years. By the time he graduates from his Masters he has been an established and prominent staffer at an international governing agency. As soon as he finishes his PhD he is offered a tenure track position at the biggest university in the city of Kuran Co’s headquarters. Aidou boils him down to this. Cross is incredibly smart yet he has focused his personal brand on his being personable. Kaname watches a couple of the links. With a genial smile and placid manner he delivers succinct analyses so convincing, if not accurate that it sends electricity shooting from the crest of Kaname’s skull and shivers down his back. Cross is the type of smart whose ideas induce ASMR - dangerous.

Kaname is in the middle of watching the Netflix special when he hears the beep of a card reader and the opening of a door. He pauses the player and focuses on 999 Nights moving through their room. The solid tap of shoes turns into the soft patter of feet, a faucet is turned on, gulping sounds, the sound of glass coming into contact with marble. Some soft rustle of cloth, another door, a scratching sound which he guesses is the brushing of teeth and a shower starts. There's not much activity after the shower so Kaname finishes the movie. He gets thirsty after and grabs a drink from the fridge. On his way back, he stops at a suddenly oddly empty space on the wall connecting his room to the next because it's warmer than other areas of the wall. He guesses it's because 999 Nights is on the other side doing what he's doing now. Standing very still in front of the wall and staring at it as if he could see through it.

-

“Why’d you join the army reserve.”

Kaname sips his green tea which tastes like steeped grass from the patches breaking through the tarmac car park out back. Yagari pauses only very slightly at cutting his overcooked bacon but the change in velocity is enough for the cigarette in his mouth to ash itself with the force. Yagari’s sunny side eggs now look like they've been peppered. He dips the bit of bacon right into the yolk, puts it in the other corner of his mouth and chews.

“Been doing your research, have you.”

“School, hospitality, army, hospitality,”

“Alright calm down, army and army reserve are two different,”

“And now you’re sticking around this place you clearly have no emotional attachment to, which by the way, what was up with all those sudden holidays?”

Yagari continues demolishing his breakfast, only looking up at Kaname when he’s chewing.

“I see that we are on the subject of not minding our own damn business,”

“You are literally in my business. You live in my business, get paid by my business, are my business,”

“In that fucking case tell your business what a vampire pharmaceutical multi-billion corporation is doing in buttfuck sandstorm buying a shitty glorified motor inn on designated human majority territory. Since we're talking about business and all.”

“What’s this about?”

“Oh, you’re back?”

Their interruptor is stunning.

“Zero, Kaname Kuran. Kuran, Zero. You’re neighbours.”

Zero spares him a nod and turns to brew coffee.

“I didn't know a vampire could live out here.”

“They can’t.”

Yagari mops up the remains of his yolk with bacon fat.

“I’m not a vampire.” Zero turns and sweeps past them with a huge mug half filled with coffee.

Kaname looks to Yagari.

“Well,” Yagari mumbles around a fresh cigarette, the exquisite snick of his still invisible lighter flicks against Kaname’s ear, and he lifts his head from his cupped palm, cherry curling the paper into black.

“He’s just a really good looking human dude.”

Kaname doesn't see Zero for the rest of the day though he’s sure he’s remained in the building.  He receives a text from Rido which simply says  **wrong fossil**. He types out a message to Aidou,  **North Huxley Hotel and North Huxley. Not already in folio** , then as an afterthought,  **Find out more about the fossil Rido wants.**

It's dark when Kaname finally accepts the dire situation of his fridge and heads to the car park. At the closest bay to the door, Zero is loading a military grade shotgun into the backseat of an impressive pick up.

“Good evening, Zero.”

Zero jerks his fine eyebrows up without looking at Kaname. It's when Kaname steps closer that Zero deigns to cut him a glance as if to say ‘not any closer, buddy’.

“Would you happen to know of any dispensaries close by.” He asks in a low voice. Zero shuts the back door and Kaname notices the shoulder strap with a handgun holster. The small firearm is also military standard. Zero opens the front door and Kaname has to step aside to avoid getting hit.

“None in Huxley or surrounds. Anything of the kind you order through the mail will be intercepted. You’ll have to go to one of the big cities if you need it in HT.”

“What are you getting up to, tonight.”

The engine quietly starts.

“Hunting.”

-

The drive to Preston is mostly black with some blurry gray and strips of luminescent white racing past. The empty roads, late hour and ability of Kaname’s car gets him to his destination 2 hours quicker than the projected time. He drives deeper into the heart of the city than he expected to, ending up on a quiet side street off the main strip of Preston’s financial district. There was no signage on the nondescript building but it was clearly open for trade. The transaction was straightforward and he locks up the icebox in the trunk.

Preston is a big city and an economic powerhouse but not a nightlife destination. Kaname cruises around and spots only the odd small bar, the kind who services the same dozen or so patrons for decades. There's also a few quiet sports pubs as none of the major leagues are in their high season. It's not long before his body starts clamming up accompanied by the phantom sensation of cold sweat. It eases as he speeds back to North Huxley.

He drains one of the bags in a glass and stacks the rest of the icebox contents in his fridge. He falls asleep while listening for signals of Zero’s return.

At the communal kitchen, Zero is standing at the counter with his mug of black coffee.

“Did you get anything?”

“Get anything?”

“From your hunt.”

Zero makes a humming sound and sips at his coffee. Yagari walks in, eyebags deeper than usual and already smelling like he’s smoked a whole pack. Zero’s gaze follows Yagari as he walks past the coffee maker and grabs an energy drink from the vending machine. Yagari looks at them, shakes his head and disappears into the office.

“Am I missing something?”

“Yeah, listen. I hunt dangerous non humans in human territory.”

“Including vampires?”

Zero hums in agreement.

“I mean you would know what a legal shitstorm it is, but I’ve killed vampires before and I expect I'll kill more vampires ahead.”

“Okay look. I want to be here as much as you want me to be here, so tell me if you know of any fossils still around. Different from the rest that’s been dug up.”

“Nah, I don't know anything about that. But there’s a big natural history museum in Mariana where I’m sure a lot of bones ended up.”

Zero looks at him for a bit.

“I’d be careful though. Mariana is aggressively HT.”

-

Kaname is about to finish setting up his Maps app for Mariana when Zero softly taps at his car window. He rolls it down. This time there are no visible firearms on Zero's person but he is wearing a pair of vintage designer sunglasses that Kaname likes. 

“Don't tell me you're going to Mariana in a Bentley.”

Kaname says nothing.

“Well then. Choose discreet parking spots.”

“I'm happy to know that you care, Zero.”

Zero's reply is muffled because he’s walking away.

“It annoys me to watch stupidity.”

Kaname does the universal driver salute to Zero as he exits the car park. The route to Mariana takes him down an unfamiliar suburban area. Each house along gently sloping streets is a carbon copy of the one before. More often than not they’ll have a board in support of a presidential candidate staked through their front lawn or leaning against their front window against backdrops of doily curtains or dim living rooms. For each and every property that does have the board, it's the same candidate. Councillor Kana Wakaba, the only human in the five running for candidacy.

The closer he gets to Mariana, the more overt the show of support becomes. On the highway he passes two billboards for Wakaba’s presidency. Each made and paid for by different sponsors. Many cars he passes have Wakaba bumper stickers and a truck which might as well have been a third mobile Wakaba billboard. Nearing the Mariana gate, he sees a building in the city whose whole north face is a mural painting of Wakaba.

The queue for the checkpoint is long and mainly old cars, many with dents, windows down or replaced with tarp or missing completely. There are a couple that have been modified with custom paint jobs or chrome wheels riding close to the asphalt. Kaname would have felt more at ease in Yagari's car.

The patrolmen inspecting his car look on edge.

“Papers.”

Kaname hands them over as one of the patrolmen sweeps a long metal stick under the chassis and another sweeps a metal detector paddle meticulously over his car. Usually this whole process is a quick flick through his papers and an absent minded nod for him to drive on. Instead the men with gadgets are doing second and third passes with whatever their doing and the one with his papers is rubbing the corner of every page he slowly turns to make sure he’s not missing anything. The cars behind him groan, beep and complain.

It's when the man makes to re-read the whole thing that Kaname intervenes.

“Is there a problem, officer?”

“We’re going to have to check the authenticity of your papers.”

Kaname feels his fangs throbbing but forces them to remain in his gums.

“Will it take very long.”

“Less than five minutes.”

Five minutes later he’s asked to provide secondary ID and the man holds his office I.D. against the sun, his papers before giving it back. The beeping in the queue gets more frequent.

“Mr. Kuran of Kuran Corporation? What business have you got in Mariana.”

“No business at all. This is a strictly personal visit.”

“Where do you intend on visiting?”

“Mariana Museum of Natural History.”

“Mr. Kuran, I can grant you entry to Mariana for a visit to the museum and that only. You may have patrol cars escorting you to and from your destination. There should be no further contact unless necessary. You are permitted in Mariana for 5 hours maximum. If you have not checked out of this very same checkpoint by 7pm, you will be criminally charged with trespassing. Have I made myself clear.”

“Officer, I understand. But do we have to.”

“This is for your safety and ours.”

-

The Museum is a massive heritage building in the middle of the city's university district. It's thankfully pleasant enough to aimlessly amble through. Kaname visits the fossil exhibit after the butterfly exhibit and before the taxidermy exhibit making sure to spend roughly the same time in each. He didn't want anyone to know he was here for any specific thing besides Natural History. Admittedly, some of the fossils were interesting enough and a very intact Tyrannosaurus Rex from North Huxley was on prominent display. But nothing that he could imagine Rido would be after. He meanders until he comes across a white haired older woman with a lanyard heavy with keys, cards and fobs holding an iPad and an air of knowledge.

“Excuse me ma’am do you work here?”

The woman looks steadily up at him.

“Well yes, I do but I'm not really part of the customer experience team.”

“I have a quick question about how you curate your permanent free exhibits.”

“Okay, hurry it up.”

“Sorry, I’ve just always wondered if you save the best stuff for paid exhibits and hide it other times or if the creme de la creme is always a centrepiece.”

“For the most part, it's the second option. Unless we’re studying or restoring it we do endeavour to have our most interesting pieces on constant display.”

Realising he's getting nowhere, Kaname throws caution to the wind.

“I mean, the fossil exhibit was so interesting I was hoping you had more or,”

The woman laughs.

“Ha!  The fossil exhibit has every little bone fragment we have ever owned in it. The amount of money invested in that whole project?  Gosh they wouldn't let us keep anything in the lab or restoration for longer than the absolute minimum let alone storage.”

-

Kaname feels a wash of relief seeing his car untouched in the museums subterranean car park. The cops escorting him pull their seats up from the reclining position and put their caps on. Driving through the university district, it's just more Wakaba posters.  
  
The only time he sees a Sara Shirabuki poster is on a construction site wall in a rougher part of town. A larger-than-life spray paint rendition of a monstrous Shirabuki literally eating people, detached limbs stuck in her rows of shark teeth and painted fire under the modified slogan on the bottom of her poster which usually reads  **Shirabuki for Progress** and instead reads, in a very accurate appropriation of the font,  **Shirabuki for Genocide**.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mention of genocide, instances of strong politics, instances of extremism. I've been sitting on this for so long and wanted to write more but it's just not coming out. So I'm posting what I have and hope I can write what I have planned.


End file.
